


Charlie Hunnam x reader

by inksie



Category: British Actor RPF
Genre: F/M, im too lazy to add summaries im sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-14 22:28:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 6,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16921602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inksie/pseuds/inksie
Summary: Charlie Hunnam x reader one shots/fics I originally posted on Tumblr





	1. Five O'Clock Cigarette

You crept downstairs, careful not to disturb Charlie, who was still asleep in bed, and made your way downstairs to the kitchen; once there, you snuck over to the counter and rolled yourself a cigarette, your fingers making quick work in shaping the tobacco to the paper and filter. It was slightly thicker than you had expected, and you silently cursed yourself for it… but, it was smokable, and that was all that mattered. So, you grabbed a lighter that was just lying around, and silently made your way to the back door before quietly opening it and stepping outside; after you had closed the door softly, you realised how cold it was outside, especially considering the fact that you were wearing your pyjama trousers, an old blue shirt of Charlie’s, a plaid red shirt with all the buttons done up, and a fairly old hoodie, which was, again, Charlie’s. You stepped onto the patio, popped the cigarette in your mouth, and lit it before stuffing the lighter into the hoodie’s pocket.

* * *

Charlie stirred out of his slumber when he felt the void on your side of the bed; he thought it was fairly odd, as you were hardly ever up before eleven, and so he rose from the bed, groggy as can be, and tracked you out to the garden.

You were pacing out on the patio, smoking, so he waited until you stopped pacing to check your phone before he came and stood behind you and plucked an earphone from your ear.

“Char!” You yelped, not expecting him to be up, and feeling a wave of guilt wash over you. Had you closed the door too loudly? Had he heard your pacing? “What’re you doing up?”

“You weren’t in bed,” he shrugged, his words visible in the air. “Why’re you up?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” you admitted, taking another drag. “Did I wake you up?”

“No,” Charlie shook his head. “Why can’t you sleep?”

“I dunno,” you frowned. “Go back to bed, Char, I’ll be up in a-”

“Nope,” he shook his head again and gave you a groggy smile. “I’m up now, babe, so why don’t I make you some breakfast?”

“Charlie-”

“Please?” He raised his eyebrows in plight and you knew you were done for. You could never deny him.

“Fine,” you caved. “But only if I can make you tea.”

“How about,” with a yawn, he draped an arm over your shoulders and pulled you against him. “We order tea in tonight?”

“You’re not gonna let me do anything,” you pouted. “Are you?”

“Considering its five o'clock and you’re out in the freezing cold smoking,” he smirked. “No.”

“God, I hate you,” you joked, wrapping an arm around his waist. “Fancy having a binge day today?”


	2. Not Really Romantic

Charlie bounded into your house and quickly picked you up in his arms, causing you to yelp and giggle, as he had caught you completely by surprise.

“Charlie!” You yelped with a smile. “What’re you doing?!”

“You, me, Netflix, pizza - yes or no?” He asked, making no effort to put you down.

“Yes,” you grinned, “I’ll get the fluffy blanket if you put me down now.”

“Alright,” Charlie chuckled, gently putting you down. “We should get married, y’know.”

“I’m down,” you shrugged. “Tomorrow any good for you?”

“It’s perfect.”


	3. Drunken Tenderness

They were kicking you out, saying it was time to close, you were leaning on each other to try and beat the Winter’s cold night air, he was carrying your shoes and you had his coat draped over your shoulders, both of you were making any excuse not to go and take a taxi home.

“Charlie,” you slurred. “Don’t be a dick, hold my hand.”

“Alright,” he slurred back as he gripped your hand with a sloppy grin. “Wanna hit up the Cart Wheel? Drinks are on me, babe.”

“Call me that again, please?” You asked with a drunken glint of dashing glee in your eyes.

“Babe,” Charlie whispered in your ear. “My sweet, beautiful, babe, who I lobe more than Shakespeare loved… uh… words!”

“Charlie,” you whispered back. “My tender, gorgeous, Charlie, who is the keeper of my heart.”

“Be still my heart,” he said softly as he gazed at your lips. “I love you, (Y/N).”

“Be gentle my love,”“ you replied in the same tone. “Don’t break my heart, Charlie.”

“Never,” he shook his head. “Don’t you break mine, either.”

“Never.”


	4. Not Been Bad

“What kinda bollocks is this?” Charlie asked as he walked into the kitchen, all he could hear was the sound of Stone Sour’s ‘Rose Red Violent Blue (This Song Is Dumb & So Am I)’, you were sat at the breakfast bar, smoking a cigarette and offering him a shit-eating grin.

“I dunno, check your trousers!” You shouted, the sarcasm evident in your voice despite it being drowned out by the sheer loudness of the song.

“Don’t get sarcastic with me!” He shouted back, making his way through the kitchen before taking a seat beside you and turning the music down. “Or I may just have to say fuck it and punish you, babe.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” you challenged.

“What?” He chuckled. “You weren’t complaining last night when I did it.”

“Maybe so,” you nodded. “But, I’ve not been bad today.”

“Sure, you haven’t,” he replied sarcastically. “And I’ve been up since six in the morning.”


	5. Knock On For You

Your friend Tom was helping you move into your new flat on the fourth floor, and the two of you had managed pretty well with the boxes… but then you had to deal with the huge, heavy, brown leather sofa, which you had managed to get up one flight of stairs, but were currently struggling with.

“Jesus,” you panted, out of breath from lugging the massive thing up the stairs. “Mate, how are you not struggling?”

“I am,” Tom replied breathlessly. “Do you think we should put it down for a moment?”

“You two look like you could use a hand,” came a somewhat familiar voice from behind you, and when you turned around, there he stood, Charlie Hunnam himself, clean shaven and with a pair of cyan eyes that seemed even more blue than they did on screen; you shared a look of awe with Tom, who knew Charlie well and so didn’t bother to say anything, before turning back to the man and giving him a warm smile as you tried your best not to scream and shout out your excitement. “Sorry, I, uh… I’m Charlie.”

“Hey,” you greeted, your voice somewhat hoarse. “I’m (Y/N).”

“Tom,” Charlie grinned when he laid eyes on your friend.

“Charlie,” Tom greeted with a friendly nod.

“So, can I help you out?” Charlie offered when he noticed you and Tom were struggling with the sofa.

“Sure,” you nodded. “But, I’m moving into the fourth floor, and I wouldn’t want you to-”

“It’s alright,” he reassured. “I live on the fourth, too, number seven.”

“Really?” You moved up slightly so Charlie could grab the sofa. “I’m moving into six.”

“So, you’re my new neighbour,” he noted, immediately going quiet as the three of you began to lug the sofa up the stairs; it didn’t take long to get it settled into your flat with Charlie’s help.

“I can’t thank you enough,” you told him. “Can I… would you wanna come out for a coffee with me?”

“Sure,” he agreed. “How does tomorrow morning sound?”

“Brilliantly,” you replied. “I’ll, uh, knock on for you, then, yeah?”

“Sure,” he gave you another grin before heading to the door. “See you tomorrow, (Y/N).”

The second Charlie left, you slapped Tom’s arm and asked, “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me Charlie fuckin’ Hunnam was my new neighbour?!”

“Surprise!” Tom laughed, his typical  _“ehehehe”_ sounding giggle that you couldn’t help but to laugh at.

“Damn you, Hiddleston,” you chuckled, collapsing onto the sofa. “He seems so nice!”

“He is,” your friend agreed as he made himself a cup of tea. “Cuppa?”

“Sure.” You shrugged.

“He’s single, y’know.”

“He is?!”

“Yes.”

“Well, that’s good to know.”

“I thought you might say that,” Tom chuckled as he put the two cups of tea on the coffee table and sat beside you. “If you need anything-”

“You’re at number nine, Hardy’s in ten, and Richard’s in sixteen,” you rolled your eyes at him. “I know, Tom, you don’t need to go all Mum on my ass.”

* * *

The next day, you walked over to number seven, knocked on the door, and patiently waited for Charlie to answer; he was wearing nothing but a pair of grey jogging bottoms when he did, and you couldn’t help but to swallow thickly at how good he looked.

“I need to get dressed,” he chuckled, stepping aside to allow you in. “Make yourself comfortable, I won’t be long.”

“Cheers,” you gave him a warm smile as you walked into his flat and sat on his black leather sofa.

“Feel free to make yourself a cup of tea,” he called from the bedroom area. “It’s all in the kitchen, cups are in the cupboard to your right!”

Within a few minutes, he walked back out, wearing a hoodie, jeans, and Vans; he still looked good as ever in them, and you knew he knew it.

“So, uh,” you cleared your throat and stood up from his sofa. “Do you happen to know any coffee shops or anything?”

“I do, don’t worry,” Charlie offered you his arm and you linked your own with it. “There’s one that’s about a five minute walk from here.”

“Awesome.” You couldn’t help but to silently ask your heart to stop beating as it banged against your ribs, as if it was rioting in its cage.

* * *

 

The coffee shop that Charlie took you to was absolutely lovely, and was brilliantly warm inside, especially considering the two of you had taken up the booth in the corner nearest the huge heater; you both drank your coffees and got to know one another a little better, he was lovely, really, and charming, and handsome… you felt as if the two of you would get along really well, but what you didn’t know was that Charlie was quickly falling for you, and was already thinking about asking you out for dinner.

“Hey, (Y/N), can I ask you something?” He cleared his throat and tried to beg his heart to stop hammering away at his ribs.

“Sure.” You agreed.

“Would you wanna come out for tea with me?” He asked, clearly nervous as he ran his hands up and down his thighs. “Like… a date?”

“I was gonna go get hammered with Hiddleston and Hardy,” you chuckled, which made Charlie relax slightly as he allowed himself to laugh along. “But sure, I’d love to.”

“Would eight be okay?” Charlie inquired, biting the inside of his cheek as he eagerly but anxiously awaited your answer.

“It’d be lovely,” you smiled.

“Great,” he grinned, relief flooding throughout his veins like a free river. “I’ll knock on for you.”


	6. Home

You and Charlie had been seeing each other for a while, ever since you had met him through your friend, Richard; the very second you both so much as said ‘hi’, sparks flew, flames grew blue from the heat, and it was easy to see that the two of you would hardly ever be far from one another for more than a few days; which explained why you were currently in  his flat, waiting for him to return home from working all day, but it was getting late, and you were beginning to worry that he may not make it home and that he may spend all night at the set, so you grabbed the huge, white, bean bag he kept in his wardrobe, pulled it in front of the television, grabbed his fluffy duvet, and settled down as you put ‘Game of Thrones’ on in order to distract yourself from your lonesome state.

* * *

When, at last, Charlie finally returned home, he immediately smiled and allowed himself to admire you, all curled up beneath his duvet, for a few moments before he silently took off his shoes, hung up his coat, and gently picked you up in his arms; he was careful not to wake you up as he carried you to the bedroom, tenderly, he laid you down on the bed, and as cautiously and softly as he could, he took the duvet from you before tucking you in and getting into his pyjamas before he himself got into the bed with you; Charlie wrapped his arms around your waist, his lips pressed to your forehead, and soon enough, he fell asleep.

* * *

Grumbling, you stirred from your sleep, only to find yourself wrapped in the one person you wanted to be with most, the person you could hardly wait to see whenever you were apart, although groggy, you smiled and snuggled further into him, which backfired, really, when you accidentally woke him up.

“Sorry, I came home late,” Charlie murmured with a yawn. “I didn’t wanna wake you up.”

“It’s fine,” you gave him a tired smile. “You’re home now, right?”

“Yeah,” he nodded.

“And that’s enough for me,” you stretched as you got up, straddled him, and placed a sweet kiss to his lips. “I went ahead and watched the newest episode of Game of Thrones, by the way.”

“That’s alright,” he chuckled. “Serves me right for coming home late, don’t it?”

“It do,” you grinned, leaning down to press your forehead against his. “I love you, Charlie.”


	7. Memes

You and Charlie were lazing about in the living room, watching a film, when he felt his phone vibrate; he looked at it, saw it was a text from you, then furrowed his brows when he noticed the picture, with the caption “When your dog runs after the ball even tho you didn’t throw it”. Only then did he realise what it was, and he sighed with a shake of his head.

“Would you stop fucking sending me memes for five minutes?” He asked with a chuckle.

“What are you, insane?” You laughed.

“Maybe,” he shrugged, putting his phone back into his pocket and crawling on top of you before brushing his lips over yours with a smirk.

“I won’t hesitate, bitch,” you licked your lips and leaned up to try and kiss him, but Charlie had other plans, and grinned as he pulled back. “Aw, c’mon, man!”

“What?” He chuckled.

“Just shut up and kiss me already, you fucking nerd.”

“Wow, so poetic.”


	8. You Belong To Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based off of the Bryan Adams song You Belong To Me

> _I take the night train_  
>  I take an airplane  
> Cause you belong to me  
> I just wanna say  
> Ain’t gonna let you get away

 Charlie took the nine o'clock train home after being away, he only wanted to be with you again, as you belonged to him, and all he wanted to say, was that he would never let you get away, he would never leave your side.

> _I only wanna hold you  
>  I just wanna hold you  
> Come on, let me hold you tonight_

When he got home at last, the only thing he wanted was to hold you and feel you in his arms again, and when you let him, he couldn’t help but to breathe out a sigh of content.

> _You say you ain’t leaving_  
>  Can’t help dreaming  
> 
> 
> _You belong to me  
> _
> 
> _I’ll take that highway  
> _
> 
> _I take the low way  
> _
> 
> _No, you belong to me_   

“I’ll never leave you,” you whispered as he held you tightly in his arms. “You belong to me, and I belong to you, right?”

“Right,” Charlie mumbled, already thinking up ways he could see you when he was away filming. “We belong to each other.”

> _I only wanna hold you  
>  I just wanna hold you  
> Come on, let me hold you tonight_

 "Do you want a cup of tea?“ You asked as you began to break away from him.

"Nah.” Charlie shook his head and pulled you flush against him yet again. “I just wanna hold you tonight.”

>   _I’m not drinking_  
>  It gets me thinking  
> You belong to me  
> While you’re out there  
> Remember, I’m right here  
> And you belong to me

Eventually, you and Charlie sat down on the sofa, and while you were having a can of cider, he didn’t dare drink, as he was thinking about how you belonged to him, and how you were always at home when he was away, and he hated to think that you were alone, he hated to think that he belonged to you yet hardly saw you because of his job.

>   _I only wanna hold you_
> 
> _I just wanna hold you_  
>  Come on, let me hold you  
> Come on, let me hold you  
> Tonight

But then again, he was home now, and he could hold you and kiss you and see you as much as he liked, and it brought a smile to his face to think that tonight, you had him all to yourself.  


	9. Sweet Realisation

For a while, you and Charlie had been seeing each other, but neither of you would have ever thought that it would get to the point where you both loved each other; sure, you liked him, a lot, and granted you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him, but love was… love was a different story, a different scene all together. However, Charlie knew very well what he was feeling, he loved you, a lot, and granted he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, but he would wait until he knew you loved him just as much.

* * *

 

Sitting in the living room with him, you snuggled up to his chest and shivered; all of a sudden, the room had gone cold, and even Charlie, who was wrapped up in a dark grey, fleece-lined, hoodie, had noticed it.

“I dunno if it’s just me, but it’s cold, let me borrow your hoodie, please, Char?” You asked sweetly, smiling when he shrugged off his hoodie and draped it over your shoulders before sweetly kissing you.

“You look better in my clothes than I do,” he chuckled softly, a small smile gracing his lips.

“Stop it,” you bit your lip and grinned at him. “You’ve already gotten me to love you, you don’t need to flirt.”

As he was about to tease you that little bit more, your words hit him, and the sweet realisation of what you had said infested his heart as he asked, “You love me?”

“I…” you began to chew the inside of your lip as you thought about it, until the sweet realisation that you were actually in love with him, ran over you. “Shit, I think I’m in love…”


	10. How's My Hair?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based off of the song How's My Hair? by McBusted

> _Dude_  
>  Don’t lie to me  
> Tell me straight  
> Don’t lie to me  
> I haven’t seen her for a while  
> Am I in denial  
> Or am I having a melt down

“Dude,” Charlie’s voice cracked as he stood in front of Hugh, his best friend. “Don’t tell me bollocks, alright? I’m supposed to be meeting (Y/N) tonight-”

“You’re fine.” Hugh reassured. “(Y/N) hasn’t seen you in ages, you could go looking like a prick… plus, this is (Y/N) we’re talking about, she’s your mate no matter what.”

> _I just don’t know anymore  
>  When did I give a damn  
> This is not who I am_

“I know, I know,” Charlie sighed, walking over to the mirror and faffing with his hair. “But I need to look good.”

Hugh furrowed his brows and thought of something to say, but the sight of Charlie actually caring about how he looked for you was so out of character for him that poor Hugh thought he was dreaming.

>   _How’s my hair_  
>  No it’s not like me to even care but  
> Do you swear  
> It looks alright  
> Cos tonight she’s gonna be there  
> How’s my hair  
> She makes me care

“How’s my hair?” Charlie asked. “Does it look alright? If (Y/N) thinks it’s a mess, I’ll-”

“I swear, mate,” Hugh chuckled. “It looks fine.”  

>   _Dude_  
>  Don’t frighten me  
> If it looks bad  
> Just lie to me  
> We’re like walking through the door now  
> I’m so insecure now  
> And unusually nervous  
> Cos I just don’t know anymore  
> When did I give a damn  
> This is not who I am

 Charlie was insecure and nervous as he walked through the door to the pub where you had said you would meet him, he could see his thumbs trembling as he sent a string of texts to Hugh, asking if he was absolutely sure that he looked alright.

>   _How’s my hair_  
>  No it’s not like me  
> To even care but  
> Do you swear  
> It looks alright  
> Cos tonight she’s gonna be there  
> How’s my hair  
> She makes me care

Finding the nearest men’s room, Charlie hunched over the sink and let out a sigh as he thought about his hair, and how you probably would not care but you might; he had gotten there early, so he had a few moments to pause and think… even though thinking was his current worst enemy.

>   _I comb it to the left  
> _ _I comb it to the right  
> _ _I try it sticky up but it just don’t feel right_

When he was at home, Charlie had tried coming it to the left, the right, the back and the front, and he even attempted to use some hair gel, but he could not, for the life of him, feel right about it.

> _How’s my hair_  
>  No it’s not like me  
> To even care but  
> Do you swear  
> It looks alright  
> Cos tonight she’s gonna be there  
> How’s my hair  
> She makes me care

 Exiting the men’s room, Charlie spotted you, sat in a booth with two pints, and he breathed out a nervous sigh before swallowing thickly, texting Hugh about his hair one final time, and daring to walk up to you.

>   _Tell me, how’s my hair_  
>  Tell me, how’s my hair  
> Tell me, how’s my hair  
> She’s gonna be there  
> Tell me, how’s my hair

When Charlie sat down, you smiled at him, and said, “Your hair looks nice.”

“I-it does?” He asked, letting out a silent sigh of relief.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “I like it.”  


	11. Dancing In The Kitchen

Charlie smiled when he walked into the kitchen to see you dancing around in an old hoodie of his, a pair of black jogging bottoms, and burgundy woollen socks that your grandmother had knitted for you a long while ago, the tune of ‘I Don’t Know Why’ by Imagine Dragons blaring through the speaker that sat on the breakfast bar; he waited until the chorus came on before he joined you, and oh God, he sang loud enough for you to turn around and giggle out a yelp of surprise at seeing him dancing along with you. 

“Hi, babe,” Charlie grinned, holding onto your hips and swaying with you when ‘Dancing In The Dark’ came on. 

“Hey,” you grinned back, putting your hand on his shoulders as you moved with him, dancing around in the kitchen. “You’re home early.” 

“Surprise!” He laughed, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. “Imagine Dragons, huh?” 

“They’re good,” you shrugged, putting your forehead against his chest. “I missed you, Char.” 

“I know you did,” he hummed, just loud enough so that the music didn’t drown his voice out. “I missed you, too… but I’m back now, I’m home.” 

“Are you gonna be here for my birthday?” You asked, knowing that it was months away yet, but wanting to be prepared - just in case. 

“Yeah,” he answered sweetly. “It’s your day, babe, I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” 

“Promise?” You looked up at him with a painful plight in your eyes. 

“I promise.” Charlie vowed. “But, right now, I’m starving - fancy some beans on toast?” 

“I haven’t had that in ages,” you chuckled. “Yeah, go on, then.” 


	12. Tell Me You Love Me

You and Charlie had been living together for years, ever since you finished University, and had been best friends ever since you were younger; growing up, Charlie was the only one who would stick up for you when the bullies on the playground came to taunt you, he was the only one who would work with you in class, he was the only friend you had for a very, very, long time, and to say that you had a somewhat dependence on his support was far from an overstatement; of course, you weren’t fully dependant on him, you had your own job, your own life, but there were times when you needed his support, when you needed him. The same as there were times when he needed your support, when he needed you, because even though he was the one to stick up for you and stand by your side at the end of the day, you were still his closest friend, you were still the same person he had grown up with. 

* * *

Tonight, Charlie was gearing up to re-watch the entirety of ‘Game of Thrones’ with you, when he noticed you walk out of the bathroom wearing a tight, short, red dress, red high heels, and holding a matching purse; he could tell you had styled your hair, and he could tell you were going for a subtle look with your make-up. Furrowing his brows, Charlie cleared his throat and looked at you. 

“I thought we were watching Thrones, not going to the Met Gala,” he commented, adding a small chuckle. “Why’re you so dressed up, (Y/N)?” 

“Char, mate, I’m really sorry to cancel Thrones night, but I have a date,” you explained, “he’s picking me up at eight, so I gotta go, man.” 

“Alright,” he mumbled, hiding his smashed glass heart as he turned to look at the television. “Stay safe, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” you gave him a half smile before heading toward the door. “I’ll see you later, Char. Love you.” 

Charlie didn’t have a chance to reply before you were gone, and slowly, he put his head in his hands, and let out a growl; why didn’t he tell you? Why didn’t he say those three words? He was in agony as his heart broke, granted, all he wanted was for you to be happy, but that didn’t stop his heart from being shattered down on the floor, the shards stabbing him in the ribs as he wept and cursed himself, pieces of glass rose up from his chest and caught in his throat, hindering his breathing slightly and making it ragged and unstable, some pieces even floated down to his stomach and lodged themselves in the flesh of it, blocking it and causing it to tighten and harden his sobs. 

* * *

“So, like I was saying,” your date babbled on again; they were always talking about the most mundane things that you didn’t enjoy, and you found yourself wishing to be with Charlie, wishing to hear his little comments while watching the television that you loved so much, the same comments that made you smile and laugh, you longed to be in his arms, feel the rising and falling of his chest when you fell asleep with your ear above his heart, wake up to hear his quiet snoring and find that his arms were still firmly around you… you yearned to hear his quiet humming along to the radio when he made tea time in the evening, settle into a routine with him while making lunch and dinner at noon, see his messy hair in the mornings when the smell of you making him breakfast woke him up; you checked your phone slyly under the dinner table and saw that you had been on the date for little more than half an hour, and although you wished you could just teleport home, you couldn’t, so, you organised an Uber, and turned to your date with an apologetic smile. 

“I’m really sorry,” you said honestly. “But, I just don’t think this is going to work out.”

You got out of your seat and exited the restaurant before waiting outside for the car; it didn’t take your driver long before they picked you up, and soon enough, you were dropped off at home; biting your lip, you walked in through the front door, only to find Charlie sat on the sofa, weeping. 

“Char?” You sat beside him and kicked off your heels before wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “Charlie, what’s wrong?” 

“N-nothing,” he stiffened up and wiped the tears and snot on his sleeve before looking at his watch  and furrowing his brows. “You’re home early.” 

“It wasn’t working out,” you admitted. “I fancy someone else.” 

“Who?” He asked, trying to put on the mask of a curious best friend instead of a jealous man. 

“Well, he’s a guy I’ve known forever,” you began, “he’s been at my side for years, and he’s everything I want, he’s the one I love.” 

“Who is he?” Charlie swallowed thickly, looking at you with bright blue eyes filled with woe. 

“You idiot,” you giggled, rolling your eyes at his obviousness. “He’s you.” 

“You love me?” He whispered, face falling in shock but lips soon curling into a bright smile when the realisation settled in; slowly, he leaned in, and captured your lips with his, careful to be slow and gentle but also a little bit dominant, he allowed you to put one hand on his shoulder and one in his hair as he pulled you onto his lap and held your hips tightly, his tongue dominated your mouth easily, but with a moan, he pulled away and smiled up at you. 

“I love you,” you panted out, resting your forehead against his. “Please, tell me you love me, too.” 

“I do,” he admitted hoarsely. “I love you, too.”


	13. Listen To Your Head

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based off of the Kaiser Chiefs song, Listen To Your Head

_There’s a million combinations and this is one_  
There’s a million combinations and I am one  
There’s a million ways to win or lose  
There’s a million ways to cheat  
There’s a million ways to show yourself 

There were a million combinations that could have been the password to Charlie’s phone, and it just so happened that he had used your birthday; you knew that it was wrong to snoop in on your boyfriend’s phone, but you knew that he had taken a picture of you when you were very drunk and had forgotten all about it, and granted, you could have asked him to delete it himself, but you felt much better off doing it yourself - at least that way, you knew it was gone for good. 

 _There’s a million constellations and this is one_  
There’s a million destinations and this is one  
There’s a million ways to show your hand  
There’s a million ways to lose  
There’s a million ways to prove yourself

“Jesus Christ,” you chuckled to yourself, scrolling through the endless pictures of his cat in order to get to that all important photo; you thought your best friend, Tom, was bad, taking pictures of his dogs all the time, but as you looked through your boyfriend’s camera roll, you knew that he was nowhere as bad as Charlie. You soon found the picture, though, and quickly deleted it before stuffing his phone back to its rightful place and pretending as if nothing had happened. Was it morally right to go on your boyfriend’s phone without permission and delete a picture? Probably, most likely, absolutely not. 

 _If you want to stay alive_  
You got to play dead  
Don’t listen to your heart  
Just listen to your head  
If you want to stay alive  
You got to play dead  
If you want to stay alive  
Then listen to your head

Charlie himself was in the shower, and when you heard the water shut off, you heard your heart beg for you to tell him, which would almost certainly end up in a row, whereas your head told you to just never mention it, after all, it was far from even probable that he would notice one picture missing, which would end up in nothing… but still, you couldn’t help but to be torn by the internal conflict. 

 _There are endless wrong directions along the way_  
And endless conversations we did not say  
I don’t think that it’s heaven  
And I don’t think that it’s hell  
We’re all afraid of knowing 

Sure, you had taken the wrong direction on the road to get that picture deleted, and of course, there were going to be endless internal conversations about it that you could never dare utter out loud; but, it was heaven to know that that picture was gone, even though it was hell to betray Charlie’s trust. 

 _If you want to stay alive_  
You got to play dead  
Don’t listen to your heart  
Just listen to your head  
If you want to stay alive  
You got to play dead  
If you want to stay alive  
Then listen to your head

You weren’t sure which side to listen you, your heart or your head, and it almost felt a little bit like you were playing dead on both sides in order to stay alive on the outside; and it felt like eternal damnation. 

 _And if you want to go back_  
Well, you can never go back  
And if you want to stay alive  
Just listen to your head 

Even though you knew that there was no possible way of doing so, you wished you could go back in time and prevent yourself from deleting that picture, and instead, ask Charlie to do it. But, you had to listen to your head, and hope for the best. 

 _If you want to stay alive_  
You got to play dead  
Don’t listen to your heart  
Just listen to your head  
If you want to stay alive  
You got to play dead  
If you want to stay alive  
Then listen to your head 

The war between heart and head grew louder with each passing second until, at last, you chose a side - right as Charlie walked out of the bathroom. 

“I deleted a picture,” you admitted, looking down at your lap. “I went on your phone and deleted that picture you took of me when I was drunk and tried fighting a seagull.” 

“Okay,” Charlie shrugged. 

“W-wait,” you furrowed your brows and looked up at him.  _“Okay?”_

 _And if you want to go back_  
Well, you can never go back  
And if you want to stay alive  
Just listen to your head 

“Well, yeah,” he nodded, crawling into the bed beside you and kissing your temple. “I mean, I trust you completely, (Y/N), and if you wanna go on my phone, then you can.” 

“So, you’re not mad?” You asked quietly. 

“No.” He shook his head. “Like I said, I trust you.”


	14. A Little Get Together

You and your partner, Charlie, were hosting a little get together in your house, just a few friends were coming over, Henry, Tom, Elijah, Hugh, and the likes, just to have a few drinks and whatnot; you didn’t bother dressing up, and instead, put on an expensive navy blue jumper that had yellow stripes on it, black, ripped, skinny jeans, and a pair of Vans trainers that you had had since you were sixteen, they were falling apart of course, but you loved them too much to so much as think of parting with them. Charlie, on the other hand, was wearing a blue button-down dress shirt, black jeans, and Converse trainers that he had bought not too long ago. 

The two of you were in the kitchen, crouched down and raiding the alcohol cupboard for something to drink, when he pulled you close and whispered something sweet in your ear. 

“You look so good, babe, I love you so much.” 

“What a load of bollocks,” you chuckled, playfully nudging him. “I love you, too.” 

“What’re you in the mood for tonight, anyway?” Charlie asked, pulling out various bottles and cans from the lower shelves of the cupboard and putting them on the grey tiled floor. 

“Cider,” you hummed, sliding some of the cans and a couple of bottles to the left with a small smile. “That’s my pile.” 

“You realise that Henry and Hugh are gonna nick that, right?” He teased, although there was some truth to it as Henry and Hugh were the only ones out of your group of friends that liked cider. 

“Henry and Hugh can bugger off,” you laughed. “Everyone can.” 

“What about me?” He put his hand to his chest and pretended to be offended. 

“You can have a bit,” you giggled. “Only a bit, though, and only if I get to nick some of your whiskey.” 

“Deal,” Charlie grinned. “I love you.” 

“I love you, too,” you grinned back and leaned forward to softly kiss him. “Now, let’s get this party started, shall we?” 


	15. Game of Thrones Binge

For some unholy reason, you and Charlie had stayed up for three days in a row to watch - or rather, binge - ‘Game of Thrones’, but you had only watched six seasons, meaning that there were still a few left to go through; the only human contact either of you had had was that of each other’s, and you were practically living off of crisps and chocolate and Red Bull, but you could no longer binge the amazing television programme, as you were on the verge of falling asleep and crashing - and Charlie was, too.

Just as you were about to get up off of his lap, though, the living room door, which had been shut for three days, opened, revealing your friend Hugh, who looked rather a bit like Jesus in your tired eyes.

“Oh my God,” he chuckled, opening the curtains and ignoring yours and Charlie’s yowls of dismay. “Did you two binge six seasons in three days?”

“Maybe,” Charlie grumbled, rubbing his eyes and squeezing them shut at the sudden light that streamed through the windows where the curtains had been opened.

“Close the curtains, Dancy!” You pleaded, burying your face in Charlie’s chest.

“Nope,” Hugh shook his head and chuckled. “Come on, up and at ‘em you two.”

“God, you’re such a joy-kill,” you muttered.

“Joffrey, Joffrey!” Charlie chanted.

“Joffrey!” You joined in.

“Jesus Christ.” Hugh tittered.


	16. Jeremy Kyle

You and Charlie were bored, as bored as school children in a maths lesson, you both had the day off from work, and were sat in the living room flicking through the television channels to find something to watch, something decent that you both enjoyed, which was when you noticed a certain programme of which you had always loved: the Jeremy Kyle Show.

“No,” Charlie said when he noticed you pausing from flicking through, the bright red highlight making the name of said programme stand out. “You know as well as I do that this show is such bullshit, (Y/N).”

“That may be true,” you began, “but it’s funny, and I love watching this - c’mon, Char, please? A little rubbish telly never hurt no one, now, did it?”

“Alright, fine,” he sighed, a smile creeping upon his lips as he sat back when you put it on and cuddled into his side. “But the second someone says ‘I thought he were dead’, I’m gonna go have a smoke.”

“Roll me one when you do, please?” You asked, watching as the show began; the episode was a D.N.A. and lie detector based one, which meant a lot of drama and a lot of laughs.

“Yeah,” he agreed, eyes glued to the television. “Next adverts, I’ll start rolling.”


	17. Home At Last

Charlie stood outside the house he shared with you, a warmth filling his chest as he looked at the numbers on the door and the seemingly never-fading colour of it, he was happy to be home at last, he dug into his pocket and brought out his keys, but he could hear the blasting tune of ‘She’s A Lady’ by Tom Jones, leading cause to believe that you were home, so he put his hand on the handle and let out a sigh of relief when the door opened; he stepped inside, closed the door, and walked through the hallway to the kitchen, you were putting clothes on the airer when you saw him, and when you did, you ran up to him with a grin before hugging him tightly and letting out a mumble of how much you had missed him. 

“Happy I’m home?” Charlie teased as he eagerly returned your embrace. 

“I’m happy as a pig in shit,” you chuckled, overwhelmed with joy at having him home at last, at having Charlie,  _your Charlie_ , home with you after him being away filming for so long. He was home at last, and you could not have been happier. 

“Do you want some good news?” He asked gently, pulling away so that he could look into your eyes, he had missed seeing you all the time, and he wished he could stay in that moment for the rest of eternity. 

“Yeah,” you nodded, smiling up at him and daring to run a hand through his hair, it was a little longer than when he had left, but it was still soft as ever. “I do.” 

“I’m home, for a year,” he told you, smiling brightly. “I got twelve months until my next lot of filming begins, and do you know where it is?” 

“Where?” You inquired, tilting your head with curiosity. 

“Just down the road,” he grinned, watching as your smile dropped with surprise before his words registered in your head properly and you let out a breathless sigh of glee. “Happy?” 

“Very,” you confessed, grinning back at him. “I love you so much, Char.”

“I love you, too, (Y/N).”


End file.
